Karma
by Googala2
Summary: Hashirama wants revenge for Madara's little "peace negotiation." Sequel to Sweet Irony; Hashirama/Madara. Beware the lust-crazed, kinky ninjas inside...


Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto…

**Summary: 'Sweet Irony' sequel. We all knew it had to happen eventually…**

**Beta's note: We here at Googala2 industries apologize profusely for the extremely… **_**purple **_**prose available in this chapter. There are idioms here which have never been seen by sane eyes. I give you warning. (Don't worry, the fic is AWESOME. The dear author just thinks that raping the English language is funny.)**

Karma

_Madara Uchiha; an egotistical, domineering, and stunning creature who sees only his objective and holds no other thing above that goal. A beautiful being that draws his victims to him with his beauty and power then consumes them and leaves their corpses to burn in the fires of oblivion. An individual whose eyes rip the very soul of a person from their body and slowly torments his captive with the promise of everlasting misery and unfulfilled desire._

_That was Uchiha Madara._

_It's no wonder so many had tried to seduce this creature, and died doing so._

_That is until…_

Where…where was he?

The earth was rumbling as though it had been hit by rolling waves of thunder, and the smell of fresh smoke and drying blood lingered in the air in thick pockets of intoxicating clouds that laid siege to the lungs of those who breathed it. The river beside the burning mountainside ran dense with crimson smears and the remains of floating corpses that had yet to reach its end.

It was chaos, and it was the very essence of Hell.

With all the effort he could muster, Madara managed to crack open his eyes as the beginnings of an impressive migraine began to take root in the side of his head, further adding to the haziness of his pulsing mind and the fatigue of his sore body. His left eye immediately shut again when a stream of warm blood poured into it from a gash above his brow. His lips were dry and his throat parched as though he'd been without water for days.

He saw the vague outline of trees in the distance and a blur of dark reds and flashing yellows conspiring overhead in what he could only visualize as the sunset bathed in blood. The wind blew harshly against his face, cool and bone bitter with the promise of winter but also burning with the remnants of heated charcoal. It hurt, the scorching on his skin, but he couldn't move to wipe the approaching flames away from his arms.

He…

He fell back into the darkness of unconsciousness.

When he finally roused back to consciousness once again the agonizing, burning sensation was gone from his arms and chest, and he could feel the welcoming softness of the leaf litter beneath him. The gentle wind was pleasantly warm and moist against his face.

Wind…moist?

What the hell?

That's when Madara knew something was severely wrong.

His eyes immediately snapped open in alarm and found that he could not see but was shrouded in the realm of darkness, blindfolded. Panicked, he bolted up, only to be thrown back down by a firm, overpowering pressure on his chest that flung him backwards like a weightless rag doll. He hit the softness below and realized what it was immediately upon contact…

"Not the best of ideas when you're still recovering." The sound of that deep, masculine voice humming next to his ear and the awareness of who it belonged to sent a shock wave of adrenaline coursing through Madara's veins. His heart skipped a beat. "Lay back down, Madara."

Madara twisted, attempting to roll off the bed and take a defensive position, only to discover that his hands were tied firmly to the bedpost and wrapped securely in what he guessed were chakra-absorption seals. A pair of muscular arms forcibly pulled him back onto the bed, easily overpowering his struggles, and held him down like a small child.

"If you keep struggling like this you'll hurt yourself further, then I'll be forced to tie your legs down as well." At the threat Madara gritted his teeth until he was sure they were bleeding and glared in the general direction of where the voice was coming from, even if the other couldn't see it.

"What is the meaning of this Senju!" Ah yes. Madara was raging.

There was a soft sigh and much to the shock of the young Uchiha leader, he felt a large hand petting delicately at his long, ebony hair, pulling lightly with each stroke. He stilled and took in the entirety of the situation with a growing dread. "Merely insuring your well being." He felt the shifting of the Senju turning to sit right beside him and lean down next to him. "Do you know how long it took to get those rats nests out of your hair? Three hours, and I'm sure there's still some in the ba…"

"Don't mess with me!" Madara sneered, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tense and rigid with the effort to control himself despite his rapidly mounting ire. "What are you up to?"

Madara gasped inwardly when he felt the Senju grab hold of his pointed chin harshly and force him to face, blind or not, up towards the elder man. The Uchiha could feel the heat of the Senju's breath washing over his lips, sinisterly. "Do you know what karma is, Madara?" That was a rhetorical question, but it got Hashirama's point across better than any amount of explanation ever could.

Hashirama wanted payback.

Madara supposed…he shouldn't have been the least bit surprised that the Senju was still begrudging him that unexpected visit he and Izuna had paid him some time back. In all honesty, it hadn't been fair to begin with, the Senju against both himself and Izuna. Not to mention that at first Hashirama had not been so willing to cooperate with their plan.

He supposed this was his bad karma finally catching up to him.

Wait!

Did that mean the Senju…

Madara smirked maliciously at the indications of his new discovery. He pulled away from the Senju's grasp and turned from the elder man arrogantly. "So the Senju are capable of retaliation after all." Temporarily forgetting himself, he chuckled darkly, amused by his own findings. "It seems the Senju are not as serene minded as everyone thinks they are." The sharp pain of nails digging into his skin vengefully and forcing his face up towards the Senju leader immediately brought him back down to the awareness of his position.

A calloused thumb rubbed gently over this cheek, and the tenderness of the touch was probably what worried the Uchiha most. "You're right. We of the Senju are capable of such hostility." A cold sweat broke out along Madara's neck and spine when he felt the Senju's lips brush, but not connect, over his for the briefest of moments. "But are you prepared to accept the consequences?"

Yes, Madara convinced himself from the sake of his dignity, though his entire being was screaming otherwise.

He did not want to find out just how a Senju got even in matters such as this. It was easy to figure out how Uchiha went about doing so, but a Senju…

It was unheard of.

Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as he expected though. Maybe he was just giving the Senju too much credit.

He heard the sound of paper folding and rustling near his face, before a sudden shock of icy chill was placed carefully on the upper side of his wrist. It burned it was so cold, but Madara gritted his teeth and reminded quiet.

It wasn't as bad as he'd thought…

Without warning, his eyes began to burn, as if Hashirama had thrown coals into the cores of his eyes after bathing them in frigid waters for the better part of an hour. He lashed out as the pain and the fear of eternal blindness hit him dead center, but Hashirama pinned him down, letting him thrash and squirm wildly in an attempt to reach for his eyes and rub the sensations away.

It stopped as quickly as it had started, and Madara could only lay there in motionless horror, gasping and heaving for air in the aftermath of the potential tragedy that was his ultimate oblivion. He felt Hashirama rest his forehead to his brow, kissing him so lightly that had the Uchiha not been so stressed, he may not have even felt it.

It was beyond words, the terror Madara felt at that moment.

"Do you know why it took so long for me to get to this point?" Hashirama asked lightly, caressing the young Uchiha's face as a mother to her child, much to the distress of the speechless man. "It's because I didn't want to hurt you." His words were soft and, dare it be said, loving, and an ill feeling of the irony of this man's actions conflicting with his words made Madara nauseous to the very pit of his stomach.

Just what kind of sick fuck was he dealing with?

It was then that Madara felt the blindfold being removed, and a blinding light temporarily stole his vision with its unbending radiance and the overwhelming sense of relief that shook Madara to his core. He could see, and for the first time in a long time, he could not express the level of appreciation he felt just for possessing such a common ability as sight.

"I needed to made sure I could have my way with you without needing to permanently disable your sharingan." He flapped a small sheet of paper emblazoned with a sealing sign before Madara face before crumpling it up with one hand. "And it seems the wait had been worth it. The seal worked perfectly."

"You bastard!" Madara nearly screamed, and luckily, Madara did not have a high-pitched scream that would make him sound like a five-year-old girl. "You are one sick fuck!"

Hashirama smiled down at the Uchiha placidly and gracefully slipped his wickedly sinful hand in under the opening of Madara's loose clothing, and for the first time, Madara realized what he was wearing. His eyes widened as he looked down at the garment that covered his nude form.

A Kimono. But not just any kimono, a silk, straight-black kimono that hugged delicately to his curves and muscles and opened up erotically at the sides on either thigh. He was in a geisha's kimono…

…One used when their virginity was sold to the highest bidder!

Madara felt his breath lengthen despite his attempt at control when the Senju began to finger dangerously at the sash tied loosely at Madara's waist. He leaned down and grinned knowingly at the Uchiha. "In my knowledge, you've never bottomed before." The wicked smirk that blazed across the Senju's face sent an all too real shiver running through Madara's body. "I suppose I'll be your first…" He brushed the hair from Madara's face and smiled, though it was covering a much darker intent. "Its only fair given you were mine."

Madara…couldn't argue with that.

But…

That didn't mean he accepted it.

"Get the hell away from me Senju!" Madara bellowed as he watched Hashirama take hold of his hips and spread his legs apart to rest on either side of his waist, but immediately he felt his throat constrict when he witnessed the glint of recognition in the Senju's eyes.

The Senju leaned down over Madara, possessively, allowing his white robe to slide fluidly from his shoulders as he inclined forward. "I don't take orders from anyone Uchiha." Like salt to the wound. Madara remembered those words all too well.

Madara looked up at the Senju, and for the first time in a long time, actually took in the sight of just how handsome the Senju was. Strong, determined face, beautifully tanned to perfection. Hard, muscular arms and legs, toned and long, a powerful chest and sculpted abs, lean waist and thin hips. He was beautiful.

Slowly, Hashirama parted the opening of the kimono, revealing the Uchiha to his admiring eyes as the younger man glared up at him defiantly. He grazed gentle fingers along the lines of Madara's defined hip bones and rubbed leisurely along the unusually smooth skin, rarely touched by the harshness of the elements.

"What do you think you are doing!" Madara bellowed, beginning to grow self-conscious of being so exposed and vulnerable to the other.

Hashirama glanced at him as if he had asked the most obvious question in the world. "Savoring the moment. From my understanding, not many men ever have the advantage of topping an Uchiha." He teased the sensitive flesh between Madara's thighs. "Particularly, not you."

Madara was about to retort, but the realization that Hashirama had a leather band grasped within his fingers caused the Uchiha to hold his tongue, weary as to the Senju's intent. But the moment the Senju reached for his newly risen member, he jerked, understanding with frightening clarity what the Senju intended to do.

"And now, the fun begins." Hashirama declared evenly, wrapping the leather bound tightly at the base of Madara's cock, preventing him from releasing.

The Senju was damn sadistic!

Then came the beginning of the end of sanity for the poor Uchiha leader as the first tinges of pleasure came rolling through his body in pleasant rings that tickled the hollows of his bones. The fingers slithered across his hardening member and the thumb pushed and prodded teasingly at the swelling tip, smearing the pre-cum across its smooth flesh in a cool spread. Nails scraped tenderly at the skin, creating friction that made Madara's insides burn in aggravation.

The Uchiha took a deep breath and worked on controlling his breathing, attempting to anchor himself from the sensations crawling up the curve of his spine. That is, until the Senju took a firm hold on the his cock and began to pump him in slow agonizing strokes that sent rising waves of pleasure stinging through the Uchiha's nerves like dry ice to bare skin. He gritted his teeth, and Hashirama moved faster.

His toes curled and he writhed, feeling the tightness in his lower belly beginning to build in heat and concentration, burning him at his core and clawing aimlessly about his body, seeking escape. Madara tensed as the flaming mass of raging beast residing within his gut pushed futiley at the base of his cock, unable to find its release, and his bound hands tightened in on themselves with enough force to have broken bones. It was no longer pleasure that coursed through Madara's blood, but an intensely concentrated throbbing that speared through him like a blade, making him blaze in anguish.

"Damnit, Senju!" The primeval need for something as powerful as release was undoing the very threads of self-control the Uchiha struggled to maintain. He was starting to slip into something so terrifying and profound that it threatened to destroy the very essence of its creator.

The Senju ignored him, watching with a great satisfaction as every muscle in the Uchiha tensed painfully in the phantom release that raked his body to the point of barely suppressed shudders and his face contorted into an expression of withheld pain.

No matter how hard one trains the body…

This was among the few things that cannot be trained for.

Madara let his body go lax and closed his eyes in concentration, allowing the pain in his lower belly to linger as it willed, knowing there was nothing he could do, but…the moment he felt the Senju lick delicately at his tip, his eyes snapped open and he sneered.

Hashirama look him dead on the eye and smirked. "We're not done yet."

Oh, Madara would have screamed, if he had been a less a man, he would have screamed and begged for the torment to end, but he, being how he was…suffered. The moment the Senju's hot mouth clamped around his swollen member and began to suck so furiously Madara could feel the back of his eyes buzzing, he knew that this was not something he'd ever experienced before.

He knew he'd be wishing for death by the end.

Hashirama forced as much of Madara's member into his mouth as he could, thrusting his tongue up to the roof of his mouth before gliding it down the straining shaft, sucking fiercely. His hands held the Uchiha's legs apart as wide as they'd allow, preventing the younger man from finding any sort of liberation from his torment. He could feel Madara shuddering from the force of his ministrations.

Again, Madara experience what was the most painful sensation of non-release rip through him like a hurricane, one that made the back of his brain swim and hammer relentlessly with the force of it. His heart strained in his chest and the air in his lungs turned to heavy lead, scrapping his inner flesh raw as he heaved with the unattainable need to inhale.

The Senju's mouth finally left him and all Madara could do was gasp for what little pieces of restraint he could gather through the fog of his misery-drunken mind. His throat was drier than it had been that first time he'd awakened, but it was not from lack of water.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Hashirama put three fingers to his mouth, and coated them heavily with fresh saliva, staring down at the Uchiha with soft, meaningful brown eyes. He placed his fingers at Madara's entrance and smiled when the Uchiha's pain laden eyes widened and a spark of disbelieving alarm crossed his beautiful, flushed face.

Hashirama's wet finger slid around the firm ring of muscle, dipping in and out of the Uchiha's tense hole before suddenly pushing all three into the tight heat in one swift motion. He stared down at the Uchiha smugly, when the younger man's toes curl in pain. "Maybe I'm being too easy on you. But I'll forgive you for that one incident." Madara knew what he was referring to, and for the briefest of moments, as he felt the sting of first penetration, he regretted having taken the Senju the way he had before.

The Senju had barely started to stretch the Uchiha's taut opening, when he stopped all at once and withdrew his fingers cruelly with a rather painful pop. Madara cringed at the feeling of the violent inferno still buried deep within the confines of his body, running rampant through his blood tissue and shot nerves. He was in excruciating agony.

Hashirama positioned himself at Madara's opening, noting how tense the man beneath him was and entered Madara completely in a swift thrust that pushed Madara up the bed an inch. Madara arched his back at the hot, complexly breathtaking feeling of having his prostate rammed so unexpectedly, his mouth opened in a silent scream that ripped from his throat as his hands struggled to grab hold of the bed frame.

Madara was tender and throbbing from the abuse of being denied release for so long and his body was overly sensitive to even the lightest of contacts. And when Hashirama began to push into him in slow precise thrusts that hit his prostate each time, the Uchiha could feel himself melting away into nothing, lost in the realms between ecstasy and hell. It was like living in a nightmarish hallucination that swayed to and fro from heightened bliss to unimaginable torment at its unpredictable leisure.

The Senju threw his head back and sped up with a grunt to a punishing pace that shook Madara to his center. By God Madara could practically see his soul waving tauntingly down at him from mighty heavens in blinding streaks of white that stole his vision and left him dazed and confused and at the edge of insanity.

Then it all came crashing down on the Uchiha like a long suspended tsunami that had been growing exponentially with every passing minute it had been denied. "Hashirama! Hashirama please. Please, my God!" Madara begged for all he was worth and he did not know what he was begging for, but he was pleading for that something that his mind could no longer comprehend but could feel in the very core of his being was what he wanted, needed.

Hashirama understood though, and his hand immediately went to Madara's swollen cock, furiously stroking him to time with his thrusts, beginning to feel himself riding into the awaiting gates of his own unspeakable heaven that was ecstasy. His could not stop even had he wanted to, the unparalleled need for the ultimate salvation from his earthy body's limits pushing him, driving him to the brink of that which no mortal can withstand.

Madara could no longer think, only feel the pleasure and the ecstasy collide with the pain and fire within himself into a single entity that called to him in a voice of no words and no tone but drew him to its glorious revelation without hesitation or thought. His could not speak nor scream, for his tongue had been stolen away from him and the fire in his belly had rendered his throat captive in its fit of tyranny.

It was then as Hashirama peaked at the height of his perceivable paradise and Madara was at the edge of consciousness that the Senju released the leather band. With a scream that matched the high paradise of heaven's cry, Madara finally came with such force that the very light of consciousness faded from his eyes for the briefest of eternities before they lit anew in the flames of brutal clarity that was his sharingan forced into awakening from the force of his rapture.

Hashirama, pushed to the edge by his desperation for release set beyond the limits of human recognition, came with the force of a tyrant's blow inside the young Uchiha before he came crashing down upon the younger man in boneless contentment. It took longer still for him to gain enough energy to roll off the Uchiha and lay beside him, basking in the after glow of their release.

Much like Hashirama, Madara lay motionless, save for the silent shuddering of his shoulders as rogue waves of ecstasy coursed through him. All thoughts and feeling eluded him, for all that could be felt was the pleasure, and in the end, even the pleasure had passed in the single moment of release that shattered the ruins of his soul and bathed him in the golden clarity that was the remnants of something between eternity and the void.

After the initial shock of the moment had faded, Madara turned to the Senju, and spoke. "Where the hell did you learn something as twisted as that? Moreover, where did you get the balls to do something like that to someone?" His voice was calm; even, still unable to rouse enough energy to speak with any sort of emotion.

Hashirama looked over at him, and his face was serene, calm, but his words... "I wouldn't do anything to someone I haven't experienced before." They were like a sledgehammer to Madara's ears.

Madara stared at the Senju, unbelieving. "You? Who…" He was cut off by the sudden look of horror that crossed through the Senju's expression as assumingly, a memory past through his mind.

Hashirama shuddered visibly, before undoing the bounds at the Uchiha's wrists and taking Madara in his arms, letting a quivering sigh escape his lips as he buried his face into the wild mess of course, black hair. "Don't ever get Izuna angry. That boy is the devil in an angel's tunic."

Madara's face suddenly went still, suspended in a moment of silence.

And then…

"What the hell did you and Izuna do!"

Ah, the rage never ends.

REVENGE! 


End file.
